


Bad Influence

by ficbear



Category: Shin Sangokumusou | Dynasty Warriors
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Comeplay, Face Slapping, Gags, Insults, M/M, Rough Sex, Scratching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 05:25:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbear/pseuds/ficbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"The most brilliant and talented men in the kingdom have knelt before me, Zhong Hui." Advancing, Sima Yi pins the young man in place with a boot on his throat. "What could <em>you</em> possibly offer that would interest me?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Influence

The imbecilic guards who usher Zhong Hui into the room seem almost smug. Perhaps they think he is about to be reprimanded, or given some kind of impossibly arduous task. Zhong Hui shakes off their amused glances with a little snort of derision. Of course Sima Yi hasn't called him here to rebuke him; his lord fully appreciates his talents and, most likely, simply intends to congratulate him on his latest success. The late hour of the summons is unusual, Zhong Hui has to admit, but he's sure it signifies nothing unfavourable. As the guards close the door behind him, Zhong Hui bows to his lord, readying himself for the inevitable torrent of praise.

"Zhong Hui." Sima Yi says, curt and dour. "You've been spending a lot of time with Shi lately, haven’t you?"

The young man raises his head, a little disconcerted by the sharpness of his lord's tone. Rumours of Zhong Hui's involvement with Sima Shi had circulated in the camp once or twice, but he's sure there's no way his lord would listen to such gossip. Confident that Sima Yi suspects nothing, Zhong Hui stands upright and smiles. "Yes, my lord."

Sima Yi fixes him with a pointed stare. "Why?"

Zhong Hui looks up at his lord silently, suddenly lost for words. Light glitters on the metal of the strategist's gauntlets, drawing his gaze back to those sharp claws no matter how much he tries to look away.

"Answer me, Zhong Hui." The order stings like a slap to the face.

"I… I…" The young man begins, trying to compose himself. "My lord, I accompany your son so often only because he asks me to. I cannot refuse his orders unless they contradict your own, can I, my lord?"

"Do you think I'm a fool, Zhong Hui?" Sima Yi stands, and advances on him. "Do you think I don't realise exactly what your intentions are, and why you've attached yourself so firmly to my son?"

"My lord- I-" Zhong Hui stammers, feelings his hackles rise no matter how hard he strives to keep his composure. "I don't know what you're talking about, my lord."

The older man laughs. "You're going to play dumb, are you, Zhong Hui? Do you really think you're capable of deceiving me, boy?"

Zhong Hui stares up at his lord, clenching his fists in the vain hope of somehow suppressing his fury. Each mocking word is like a cup of oil thrown on an already blazing fire, and Zhong Hui can feel the last shreds of his self-control slipping away as Sima Yi glares down at him.

"You're a parasite, Zhong Hui. You've attached yourself to my son in the hopes of feeding off his position, and you've done nothing but leech away his time and energy."

Zhong Hui snaps. "My lord, if this is all a longwinded prelude to having me executed, please just call your guards in and get it over with."

Silently, slowly, Sima Yi advances on him until his face is inches from the young man's. "Do you think I'd sully one of my blades with the touch of your flesh?" He looks down at Zhong Hui, and those thin lips curl into a slight smile. "No, if I wanted to get rid of you, boy, I'd demote you to a commoner and have you thrown out on the streets."

"A _commoner_?" Zhong Hui stares up at his lord, incredulous and enraged. "How _dare_ you! You'd be throwing away the most talented officer you have, and quite frankly you'd be lost without me. Do you have _any_ idea-"

The back of one hand comes down hard across his cheek, cold and sharp, and Zhong Hui reels back from the blow. His lord's hands are too quick, though. Sima Yi grips the collar Zhong Hui's shirt with one clawed fist and holds him in place as he delivers a second blow, reddening the young man's other cheek to the same stinging red. The abruptness of the pain seems to wake Zhong Hui up, and he finds himself oddly calm in the face of his lord's cruelty. After all, he surmises, if Sima Yi really _doesn't_ intend to have him killed or exiled, then the strategist must want something else from him. And what could he want, that Zhong Hui hasn't already provided his lord with in abundance? The young man smiles to himself, nursing his stinging cheek in his hand. Given how unhappy Sima Yi seems about the matter of his son, there is surely nothing else Sima Yi could want but Zhong Hui _himself_.

Dropping to his knees, Zhong Hui bows his head, clasping his hands in supplication. "My lord, please forgive my insolence," he says, allowing his voice to catch a little. "I'll submit to whatever punishment you deem necessary. Anything you want, my lord, I will gladly-"

Sima Yi raises his foot and brings it down squarely on Zhong Hui's chest, sending him sprawling backward onto the floor. "The most brilliant and talented men in the kingdom have knelt before me, Zhong Hui." Advancing, Sima Yi pins the young man in place with a boot on his throat. "What could _you_ possibly offer that would interest me?"

"Those men are but insects compared to someone of _my_ talents, my lord." Zhong Hui's pride carries him effortlessly forward, despite the boot on his throat, and he looks up at the strategist with utter confidence. "Let me demonstrate my skill for you, and you'll see that I'm right."

Sima Yi watches him silently for a moment, keeping his foot firmly in place on the young man's neck, and the silence only urges Zhong Hui on.

"Your son always seemed pleased with my performance, my lord." Zhong Hui gives the strategist a wicked smile, squirming a little under his boot. "Let me show you why."

Sima Yi steps back, and Zhong Hui is just beginning to plan his next move when his lord seizes hold of him again; before he can react, Zhong Hui finds himself turned over onto his stomach and hauled up onto his hands and knees, listening to the sound of those claws slicing easily through the fabric of his robes. The strategist is too fast, too precise, and all Zhong Hui can do is hold still as his clothes are cut to shreds.

"What a pitiful sight you are," Sima Yi says, slicing the last of the young man's garments apart. "Look at you, on your hands and knees like a dog..."

The young man tenses, rigid with indignation. "Like a—"

Searing pain cuts off his words, and he cries out as his lord's claws rake along the length of his back.

"Be quiet, boy."

Pride pushes him through the pain, and he throws Sima Yi a glance as withering as he can muster. "Well, you're mistaken if you think-"

One tight hand grips his hair, and the other reaches beneath him to drag its claws across his chest. Now his whole torso seems to be on fire, and his breath is short and ragged as he struggles to calm himself.

"You really don't know when to hold that tongue, do you?" The strategist says, yanking hard on Zhong Hui's hair.

Zhong Hui yelps, and the noise is immediately stifled by the length of fabric being stuffed into his mouth. Sima Yi ties the ends of the strip behind the young man's head, tightly enough that all Zhong Hui can do is cry out muffled protests against the thick fabric. Gagged with the remnants of his own robes, Zhong Hui can feel his arousal building just as rapidly as his anger; having his mouth stopped seems to amplify every feeling of humiliation and desire, and he shifts uncomfortably in the strategist's grip.

"You didn't think this through at all, did you?" Sima Yi says, ignoring Zhong Hui's noises of complaint as he continues. "Did you even consider what you were getting yourself into? What happened to the quick-witted young man I recommended to the court?"

Zhong Hui protests against the gag, quietening only when he hears the clatter of a gauntlet being discarded. He glances over his shoulder in time to see his lord slicking his bare hand with oil. Those long fingers stroke briefly along the cleft of Zhong Hui's ass, just long enough to give his flesh a thin coating of oil; evidently Sima Yi intends him to suffer. He whimpers against the gag, crying out into the thick cloth as the strategist's cock forces its way inside him.

"Do you make this much noise for my son?" Sima Yi laughs, raking his claws down across Zhong Hui's back as he fucks him. "Or is it all flattering words and sighs of passion for him? Do you pretend to be a refined lover, or do you let him see what a little slut you truly are?"

Zhong Hui tries to keep quiet, biting down on the gag, determined to deny his lord the satisfaction of hearing yet more of his moans, but his efforts are all in vain. The force of the strategist's hips pounding against his ass, brutal and fast and relentless, is too much to bear in silence. Each thrust hits just the right angle to drive another muffled wail from his lips, and his body shakes with the force of the onslaught. Leaning heavily on one arm, Zhong Hui slips his other hand down and takes hold of his cock, but before he can even begin to stroke himself, Sima Yi grabs hold of his arm and yanks his hand away.

"Lascivious boy…" The strategist chastises him, wrenching both arms behind Zhong Hui's back. "Your hands are just as wayward as your tongue, aren't they?"

The strategist ties his wrists in place with another strip of torn fabric, and the bonds only make Zhong Hui's flesh ache to be touched even more. He squirms and pulls against the cloth, grinding his rear against his lord's lap as he moves, and is rewarded with another swipe of those cruel claws.

"You can't help yourself, can you?" The strategist hauls him up to his feet and throws the young man up against the wall. "No wonder Shi is so sour-tempered these days, if he has to tolerate your constant misbehaviour."

Zhong Hui moans against the gag as his lord slams back into him, desperate to refute the strategist's insults. To be taunted again and again, to be teased and mocked pitilessly even as his lord uses his body, is almost more than he can tolerate. The frustration feels like fire raging inside him, hot and bitter and hungry, and Zhong Hui groans curses into the fabric of the gag, damning his lord with every breath.

"Eager little whore." Sima Yi withdraws again and grabs hold of the young man's neck and shoulder, dragging him over to the table and throwing him over it as if he were nothing but a flimsy toy. "If I took away that gag, you'd be begging me to fuck you again, wouldn't you? Just as you've begged my son to fuck you so many times."

Zhong Hui's body hits the table hard, and the impact knocks the breath from him. All he can do is whimper hoarsely against the gag as Sima Yi kicks his legs wide apart and thrusts into him again. The strategist is too fast, too exact, too ruthlessly efficient in everything he does, and his attentions leave Zhong Hui dazed and overwhelmed. The young man lets the table take all of his weight, pressing his skin to the cool wood, hoping its sturdiness will lend him strength as Sima Yi's cock pounds into his ass, brutal and hard. His mouth waters more and more with every thrust, and he can feel the gag growing moist as saliva trickles over his parted lips and down across his cheek. Zhong Hui groans in frustration. How many levels of humiliation must he endure, before his lord is satisfied?

"On your back," Sima Yi commands as he manhandles Zhong Hui into position, as if the young man has any choice in the matter. The weight of his body presses painfully on Zhong Hui's bound wrists, and the discomfort adds an extra layer of desperation to his cries. He stares up helplessly at his lord, squirming as those cold fingers grip and squeeze his throat. The pleasure of being fucked so deeply and so viciously, the pain of the myriad scratches and bruises covering his body, and the insistent pressure of his lord's claws slowly choking the breath from him, is all too much to withstand. As soon as Sima Yi's bare hand curls around Zhong Hui's cock, the young man howls in need and bucks up against his lord's fist, desperate for the satisfaction that seems just out of reach.

"Little slut…" Sima Yi rebukes him, stroking Zhong Hui's cock in firm, merciless strokes as the young man begins to come.

Zhong Hui squeezes his eyes shut, giving himself up entirely to the feeling of his lord's hand moving over him, his lord's fingers squeezing the breath from him, his lord's cock filling him, and cries out frantically as the pleasure overwhelms him. Suddenly the hand on his throat is gone. Cold metal strokes against his cheek, and the gag falls away in tatters. Zhong Hui opens his eyes, but before he can draw breath to speak, Sima Yi's fingers force their way between his lips, filling his mouth with the warmth and taste of his own come. His lord's fingertips push against the back of his tongue, fucking his throat as ruthlessly as his ass, and Zhong Hui coughs and squirms around his fingers, sucking as diligently as he can at them.

"Look at you…" Sima Yi fucks him in long, hard strokes, pushing his fingers a little further into the young man's throat with each thrust. "Lapping at my fingers like a dog…"

Zhong Hui cries out in protest, but his words are lost against the flesh in his mouth, and he can do nothing but lie there and take it, as his lord finally begins to come. Again and again the strategist pounds into him, and Zhong Hui whimpers with each stroke, tensing as he feels the warmth of his lord's come flooding into him. His cheeks burn with exertion and embarrassment, and he keeps his eyes firmly shut as Sima Yi gives him one last thrust and pulls out. He can feel the sticky warmth of come and oil on his skin, and he shivers as his flesh begins to adjust to the sudden feeling of emptiness.

The strategist's voice is sharp and cool as it cuts through the silence. "On your feet."

Zhong Hui flinches instinctively as his lord grabs hold of his arm, and it takes him a moment to realise that Sima Yi is merely pulling him down from the table. The strategist turns him around, and with one swipe of his claws, slices away the fabric binding Zhong Hui's wrists.

"Now get out." Sima Yi orders, his tone and gaze both utterly cold. "And remember, Zhong Hui – you might have won my son's favour, but you have a long way to go before you'll earn my approval."


End file.
